Clandestine Covers
by AllAmericanSlurp
Summary: Thoughts of the truth are ripping the Davenports apart. They were a team, and then suddenly, they were all on their own. Throw in an enemy good and evil, three hidden abilities, twelve broken hearts, illicit secrets, and a failed mission, and you have despair, disappointment, and destruction. Dedicated to daphrose, dreamer4evera, and MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul
1. Prologue

**He, y'all! I'm back with the sequel to Thoughts of the Truth, and the second story in the trilogy "Dark Secrets." [Trilogy name may be subject to change.] I promise that chapters will be longer and that there _will_ be action. There will be an estimated fifteen to twenty chapters in this story. Please R&R! **

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Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

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_Thoughts of the truth were lodged in the back of each and every soul, of the lab rats and the others. Thoughts of the truth were carrying out the true toil, the true work that would be the undoing of them all. Thoughts of the truth were swirling in the mind of each person, coaxing them and nudging them to do what they thought of first: to suit my needs, to satisfy myself. _

_There were thoughts of the truth to become smarter, to become recognized for anything other than brute strength, to be acknowledged for importance of the team._

_There were thoughts of the truth to become popular, to become accepted into the close-knit community of well-known students, to become normal, to become a human being that didn't have to save the world every day, to be just human. To accept life without the heavy burden of missions._

_There were thoughts of the truth to become accepted into a team recognized for flash abilities; to prove oneself worthy with his mind-abilities; one being so powerful he never let it show. There were thoughts of the truth that strived to understand the deep secret of the family, and who one could choose to be with—there were no good and evil sides; just mixed, confused, muddy, and gray._

_There were thoughts of the truth to become included in the team, for being behind the scenes on each and every one of the missions, to recognize that one could have a love life and be helpful on these missions; these missions that would be one's undoing._

_There were thoughts of the truth that struggled with the heavy family encumbrance, wondering what oneself did wrong between the point where one's brother was working for the good of the community, and then the bad of the world. There were thoughts of the truth that peeked around the corner, nervously, paranoid that one's kids would never come home again and would never see the light of day through their willing eyes—they would be trapped under a mind-controlling app for the rest of eternity._

_There were thoughts of the truth that wondered if one could help, and always told, when offered, that one was a burden and of no help. There were thoughts of the truth that sang, "You're the odd one out. You're the one they all forget about."_

_There were thoughts of the truth that wondered if one had acted so badly that he was never to be trusted again as family remember; only to be regarded warily as the enemy inside the home, the inside job traitor._

_There were thoughts of the truth that pondered whether one's own real children would realize that one was their real father; thinking that he could, once and for all, connect with his children in a way they never would have dreamed of. There were thoughts of the truth that enticed a delicious aroma of feelings: happiness, sadness, and loyalty. And they circled, just out of reach._

_There were thoughts of the truth that whined, moped, and grumped about, wondering if one's own family would ever come to stop putting one down, and maybe even complimenting one for once, thinking that one deserved it after a tough childhood, even continuing into adulthood._

_There were thoughts of the truth that made one special being, not quite human, not quite robotic, think carefully about one's actions in the past—had one wasted one's life away thinking only about another's thoughts and not the true thoughts that one should follow? There were thoughts of the truth that followed one's owner around like a love-sick puppy, crawling away defeated when one realized one's owner cared less than nothing about one._

_There were thoughts of the truth that summed everyone up, exposing their weak spots, revealing their greatest fears, and ripping everyone apart as a family, whether it be a tortured family or a loved family, down to the very core. There were thoughts of the truth that threatened their owner, making the owner wonder if those were even his thoughts, or they were yet another entirely different being's thoughts simply using the owner as a host. _

_There were those thoughts of the truth—they were painful, betraying, honorable, and selfish—they were all thoughts of the truth._

And little by little, gradually, slowly, these thoughts of the truth began tearing apart the family.

Brother and sister grew apart; child and parent grew apart. Every existing relationship slowly weakened, until each and every family member no longer worked harmoniously together. Consciences urged them to confess their thoughts of the truth; to show what was really going on in their minds.

But their consciences also kept the secrets revealed, deep inside their darkest depths of their souls. And so darkness prevailed, reigning over the family.

* * *

Donald Davenport liked to think of himself as a calm, collected, and a mature man. But after the bionic showdown, after the avalanche incident where it seemed Chase was on the brink of betraying them, after the encounter with Krane where he had almost lost the pride of his life, well, he wasn't too sure about his life's security. He was anything _but_ stable. He stumbled around the house, eyes bloodshot, and hair messy. And he never said a word of encouragement, or a word of criticism. He watched Adam, Bree, and Chase train so hard in a way he'd never seen them train before; in a way that made him feel like they _had_ noticed he was a lifeless man, and that they were trying to cheer him up. He watched Tasha make dinners exuberant and exquisite and excellent, colors flying and savory tastes making his mouth water. But he was silent, and never complimented her. And he felt even guiltier when she realized that, and didn't even feel offended. It was like she knew he would come around eventually. But would he really?

* * *

Chase Davenport liked to think of himself as confident and secure, always included and always recognized. He had made sure of that when he was little—no, Spike had made sure of that. If Adam or Bree had ever ignored him, Spike would come out and teach them a lesson they'd never forget. And yet it seemed like they _had_ forgotten, and Spike had only come out just two months ago.

And that was when he knew that he and his siblings had grown apart. It had always been "Adam, Bree, and Chase." And now, it seemed it was "Subject A" and "Subject B" vs. "Subject C." And he knew there would be a time when they'd anger him so much that he would fight back.

And he, as in _Chase._ Spike wouldn't have to do any work. It would be all _him._ Would he really get that angry?

But that was what had scared him. He didn't ever want his siblings to know about how much power he had, and how power-hungry he really was. Douglas had told him that they were alike; for the _knowledge,_ for the _thirst_ of power. He didn't want to show his siblings how powerful he was. They'd start regarding him as an angry powerhouse that would attack and the slightest provocation. And the last thing he wanted to do was to somehow have them become _afraid _him. Sure, Adam and Bree were relatively powerful, but in the long run, they could be defeated quickly because Adam only had four core abilities and Bree had only three…

* * *

Bree Davenport liked to think of herself as a thoughtful, sweet girl that was popular and had crushes from multiple boys alike, but sadly, that just wasn't true. She was the awkward, weird girl at school who seemed to be there one second when a boy asked her out and then gone the next, leaving only a trace of skid marks made by her unique Doc Martens. She liked to think she was a calm, casual, and collected person. But in the end, she wasn't. Not when she had the burden of saving the world on her shoulders.

She was growing apart from her brothers, she knew. Since they were the only other children near her age growing up, she'd become very close to them and thought of them the same way she would have if they'd been girls/her sisters. But did she really think of them the same way now? She would hate to admit it, but her relationship with Chase and Adam was fading, rapidly. She'd spent less and less time with her biological family and more and more time with her high-school life, with Owen and Ethan and Caitlyn, working at Tech Town. The only person she really felt close to was Tasha, because at least _Tasha_ accepted who she was—a (not-so) normal teenage girl that felt slightly insecure but wanted to face the world and get a boyfriend and walk down the aisle in white. Would she really give her bionics up to be a normal girl who could go to the prom and get married and have offspring without ever having to worry about an epidemic in England or a toxic chemical warning leaking underground in Russia? The bionics, that she loved so much?

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Adam Davenport had always taken care of his younger siblings whenever they needed him. He was the oldest by a year, and it was natural to feel the responsibility of caring for Bree and Chase. While other children might have thought of it as a burden, Adam thought it was a blessing. Because there was nothing better that he liked than making sure his siblings were safe and sound. He loved them more then he could ever express, and he knew he would always, forever. No matter how many short jokes he would crack on Chase, he had known before they had discovered the outside world that Chase would understand. No matter how many times he would humiliate Bree before they'd been exposed to the outside world, he had known she would understand. That's how it had always been. They'd had an unbreakable bond, broken only by the simple disappearance of one lab rat. And they _always_ looked out for each other. No matter what.

But now, it seemed to break, _be_ breaking, fast. And no matter how much he struggled to repair the broken bonds, to be smart, to be known for something other than his strength, he couldn't mend the tear.

Everyone's bonds were breaking, just too fast.

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**What do you all think? If you're glad I didn't leave you on a cliffhanger, you've got no idea what I'm planning. But I will say this: if you review a certain number of times (sorry, you have to be a member to earn this privilege) you will be added to my spoilers list. What is that? Let's just say you'll never have to suffer my cliffhangers again!  
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**Okay, so I know I only did Donald and the lab rats, but for a very good reason. You'll see! Anyways, please review! Review, review, review!**

**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)**


	2. Fight

**Hey, y'all! Wow, eight favorites and eighteen reviews! Just for one chapter! I am _very_ pleased. Before I give you the chapter, I'd like to give a shout-out to RazaratheFirst for many reasons, but one is because she is an awesome, wonderful person who stands up for what she believes in, and two, she's got an LR story called Hybrid that y'all should check out! So after you're done with this, please do so! Anyway, here you go, chapter one!  
**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

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_Thoughts of the truth are driving the Davenports apart. __They were a team, and then suddenly, they were all on their own. Throw in an enemy good and evil, three hidden abilities, twelve broken hearts, illicit secrets, and a failed mission, and you have despair, disappointment, and destruction…_

Donald awoke to a whiny, bratty voice. Just what he needed.

"Hey, Donny, you know, today would be a really good time to be with me! You don't have to be with that disgusting, Chewbacca-like creature*. Spend time with your handsome, awesome, best friend instead!"

Donald glared at the emoticon. "How many times do I have to tell you, Eddy—no calling Tasha names! And don't you forget," he threatened. "She can turn you on and off whenever she wants." Eddy stared back incredulously. "Okay, so she would never turn you on," Donald added as an afterthought. "But she would never hesitate to turn you off if she heard you talking like that! I mean, really, Chewbacca? She's more of a Bigfoot…" He trailed off in thought. What was wrong with him? He never poked at Tasha, and even then, it was in front of her so she would know he was joking.

And then he remembered. The phobia of his children disappearing—he knew they were bionic and that they could protect themselves—but with Krane at large and Douglas who knows where, he supposed he had every right to be worried about them. Whenever he looked back on the bionic showdown, he wished that he had installed a better smart-home security system. Eddy was helpful, but only when he _wanted_ to be. And that wasn't why he made Eddy. Honestly, he liked Eddy, he really did, (and he supposed that he _was_ the only one that liked Eddy even so) but sometimes enough was enough…

He took the elevator down to the lab and stared at the hexagonal patterns* until they began hypnotizing him, and he couldn't look away. He heard the slightest noise, a _swoosh_ sound, and he knew it was the sound of a capsule opening.

Donald looked up. His youngest, his favorite, his smartest. He knew Douglas had felt the same way—they both loved Chase the most because to be honest, he was the strongest and the most powerful. And he was still developing. That was a good _and_ a bad thing. Good, because he could begin to shape Chase into a hero, and bad, because if Douglas ever encountered Chase again like the avalanche incident, who knows how he would mold Chase into? He could turn Chase evil; he could make Chase betray his family. _But he would use the Triton App, wouldn't he?_

No. The scary part was that Chase would, and _could,_ make the decision willingly.

"Hi, Mr. Davenport," Chase greeted, yawning. He was still in his cotton back pajamas with the three red rings symbolizing Davenport Industries on the left side of his chest, hair rumpled. "Sleep well?"

Donald opened his mouth, ready to snap, but then Chase cut in. "No, of course you didn't. You're still worried about Douglas and Krane."

Donald shut his mouth, and then opened it again. He repeated it, until he looked like a goldfish. Finally, he said, "Are you _sure_ you're not telepathic?"

Chase grinned. "That would be great, but I doubt it. I mean, I've already discovered two hidden abilities and had five regular ones, so I don't think I'll be unlocking telepathy, or anything else for that matter, for a while.

Donald sighed. "You don't know that, Chase. Douglas designed you to become the most powerful bionic superhuman the world has ever faced. You may be unlocking _twelve_ hidden abilities by the time you graduate from college. Douglas implanted more codes in your chip than Adam or Bree's, and that's why you have the most. If Douglas had gotten what he wanted, you would have speed, strength, laser vision, vocal manipulation, agility, blast-waves, you name it."

Chase remarked thoughtfully, "But they'd all be put to waste. You know, Marcus was an android, and he could handle all of the abilities in his chip, but I'm human, and my nervous system would get stressed out from handling _all_ of those abilities. So I couldn't use any of them for more than a few minutes."

Donald nodded, thinking that Chase really did think things through. He was a genius, though, but it seemed like lately Chase had become quieter and drifting away in thought.

He hoped Chase wasn't really thinking of betraying them. He had nearly had a heart attack when Chase was standing next to Douglas. They looked so alike—the hair, the eyes, the desire for power—

_No!_ Chase wasn't like that. He didn't want all that power; he didn't even _hunger _for power… did he? If so, he never showed it. And maybe that was _why _he was so quiet all of a sudden. He didn't want Chase to go down Douglas' path. No matter how much Douglas hated him, he couldn't bring himself to hate Douglas back. Yes, they were brothers that had turned on each other, one good and one evil, and yes, they both were having a family feud over Adam, Bree, and Chase, but all the same, _he was his brother._ And he just couldn't hate his brother.

_Not after all of the good memories they'd had and shared together._

Chase's voice brought Donald back to the real world. "Mr. Davenport? Are you okay?"

Donald looked up. "Oh… Chase… I don't…" He faltered, not sure how to phrase what his true thoughts were gently. "I was thinking that… that you look…"

Chase didn't pry. He waited for Donald to finish, and then supplied, "That I look—what?"

Donald struggled for the right words. "Your hair—your eyes, the way you look now, you've grown to—"

"—Look ridiculous," Bree finished, stepping out of her capsule. "You can't _seriously_ think that he looks _cool_, does he? It's such a nerdy hairstyle!"

Startled, Donald looked at Bree, who, as usual, had her hair down, although it wasn't as rumpled as Chase's. Of course, like any normal teenaged girl who cared about makeup and boys, she had taken time to look nice. Who knows how much of the conversation she had seen or heard while getting ready?

Chase glared at her. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today," was all he said.

Bree glared back. "What's that supposed to mean, Chase?" She didn't say it meanly, but it was enough to set Chase off.

He stormed out of the lab and Donald watched as he saw the elevator light go up until he assumed Chase was going to eat breakfast. He then said to Bree quietly, "Was that really necessary?"

Bree looked slightly guilty. "I guess not." Donald nodded, waiting for her to finish. "But I can't help myself! If he's going to take on a nerdy look he's going to get teased. I'm doing him a favor!"

Donald stopped nodding and scowled at her. "Bree, stop beating around the bush. Go upstairs, eat breakfast, and apologize to Chase."

Bree sighed loudly, seemingly frustrated, and walked over to the lab, her heels clicking, muttering loudly and rolling her eyes.

Donald looked over at the row of capsules, three in a line, two doors open, one closed. He stepped over to the capsule door and tapped on it gently. "Adam?" He whispered. "Adam, it's time to get up."

Adam responded by snoring. It wasn't a regular snore; it was one of those loud, belly-grumbling, earth-shaking snores.

Donald tapped on the glass once again, slightly louder this time. "Adam, Bree and Chase have already gotten up and are upstairs. Don't you want to join them?"

Adam leaned against the front of the capsule, his slobber dripping down his chin.

Donald winced. If he were standing right in front of the door when he opened it, Adam would come toppling down on top of him. He'd have to stand to the side… hmm… how would he get Adam to wake up?

Ah! He knew what would wake Adam up—his obsessive love of food did have a plus side after all!

He rapped on the glass the same way a woodpecker would have pecked at a dead tree. "Adam!" He shouted, the yell loud enough to scare all of the Mission Creek birds away. "Chase and Bree have stolen your Incredible Edibles and are looking at it upstairs!"

That had done the trick. Adam's head shot up and his eyes grew wider, taking on a look of fear. "Not my Incredible Edibles!" he shouted, punching open the glass even though the door was unlocked.

Donald shielded himself from the shower of glass and grabbed Adam's arm. "Adam! Adam, I was joking. Bree and Chase don't really have your Incredible Edibles. But they _are _eating breakfast upstairs. Why don't you, uh, go join them? It's pancakes today," he added, reminiscing Tasha's homemade pancakes with smoked apple-wood bacon. He licked his lips, upper left to upper right and then lower right to lower left, and then was brought back to reality when Adam rushed to the elevator and stomped on his foot.

"Ouch!" he cried, clutching it. "That hurts, Adam! You _really_ don't know your own strength!"

Adam shrugged, and then actually looked slightly hurt. He stopped and turned around, saying, "Does you foot hurt _now?_"

Donald felt it gingerly and said, "No, not now. Just… go upstairs. I'll be right up."

Adam looked over his shoulder once more apologetically, and then headed upstairs. Where did this new Adam come from? Adam never stopped to see if someone was okay. He was so naïve and innocent; knowledgeable of only _his_ world. But Donald felt that he liked this new Adam… He smiled, thinking of all of the good times he had shared with Adam, Bree, and Chase. And they were growing up now, so different, so much _mature. _

* * *

Douglas paced around his apartment. After Donald had kicked him out of the mansion, even after he had defended Adam, Bree, and Chase from Victor Krane's fireballs, he was basically homeless. He couldn't come back to the warehouse where they had been camping out; Krane was sure to kill him if he ever came back. As for going _back _to Donald's home, well, that wasn't an option at all. The only thing left to do was continue hacking into Donald's bank account to scrounge up some money to make a living until he found a permanent solution to the deep hole of debt he was already in, mentally and physically.

* * *

Upstairs, Adam had a hard decision to make.

"I have a hard decision to make," he announced loudly while putting the banana in the microwave.

Leo raised his eyebrow. "Um, Adam, decisions require thinking. And second, YOU DON'T PUT BANANAS IN THE MICROWAVE!"

Adam felt hurt inside, but he played dumb and stayed silent, waiting for Leo to say the inevitable.

But Bree stepped in. "Um, Adam, when Leo says 'decisions require thinking,' he means 'you don't think.' And since you never think, 'you don't make decision.' " She watched his face carefully, waiting for a volatile explosion of lasers or plasma grenades.

Instead, she received something she'd never seen before.

"I'm sorry, Bree." Adam yelled, angrily. "I'm sorry that I'm never good enough for you! You can never appreciate me and you always put me down about being dumb! You think I actually have feelings? Surprise, surprise!" He stomped off, preferably back down to the lab.

There was a long silence that hung in the air as Leo, Bree, and Chase stared after Adam.

Chase remarked, "I'm glad he didn't glitch."

Bree added, "That's so unlike him. Why would he never tell us something that makes him so angry?"

They both looked at Leo, waiting for him to apologize for the rude statement.

"Don't look at me, guys!" He said.

They both scowled at him. "You really made Adam feel dumb," said Chase.

"Well, look who's talking! You're the one who made him feel bad in the first place when you mocked him for learning how to speak after you did when you were three!"

"That doesn't matter!" Chase yelled, and then paused. "Wait, how do _you_ know that? You weren't in this house yet!"

Leo edged away, and then made a run for it.

Bree sighed. "Mr. Davenport told him."

Chase groaned. "I never meant for Adam to feel this way," he said. "But don't you think he is overreacting about this?"

Bree shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe _you_ are, Chase."

Chase looked up. "Since when did _you_ become the intermediary sister?"

Bree grinned, a small smile. "It's part of being a normal teenage girl," she said. "And I want to live a normal life!"

Chase threw his hands up in the air. "But you're _not_ normal! You're a bionic superhuman that needs your full attention for missions!"

Bree gently grabbed Chase's waving arms, which had started moving the plastic fruit around the counter when he'd glitched, and said quietly, "I know, I learned my lesson when I was supposed to be quarantined. But don't you think I would like to be normal in a way that doesn't interfere with my bionic life?"

Chase stopped moving and fighting against her. "Well, I never thought of it that way."

Bree smiled even bigger, although it wasn't a huge smile. "Chase, sisters give advice to their brothers. It's what we do." She hugged him, and he hugged her back. "Alright, Bree, I'll go talk to Adam," he said once they released themselves from the hug.

Bree smiled her best smile. "That's the right thing to do!"

She watched him walk down the hallway, hands in pockets, before her smile disappeared. Who was she kidding? _No_ normal teenage sisters gave advice! They spent all of their time pranking them and teasing them and whatnot... she would ask Donald what to do... but he wouldn't really help her; he had told her that she could have a normal life _only_ if her full attention went to missions that popped up. That was impossible! Missions came up three times a week! How was she supposed to accept dates or invitations to parties if she had no idea that a mission would strike the same night as the prom? And every single teenage girl went to prom!

While Bree was fighting herself internally, Chase headed into the hallway to go down to the lab, but he never got where he meant to be.

He never stepped onto the elevator.

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**So! Cliffhanger! Ha! Chapter one of Clandestine Covers is up. How did you like it? Please review it, whether you hated it or loved it! Remember, if you review quicker, I might update by Wednesday!**

**To address the spoilers list: daphrose and MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul are on the list! If you want to be like them and get what happens next, please review!**

**Footnote #1: I got inspired by two things to mention Chewbacca: a) daphrose, because her avatar is of Chewbacca, and c) the picture from Speed Trapped with Eddy's accompanying captions "This is Tasha waking up in the morning!"**

**Footnote #2: If I forgot to tell anyone, this story is taking place after Taken and the setting of the lab is the new one, not the old one.**

**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)**


	3. Coercion

**Hey, y'all! I would like to say something: 29 reviews! That's wonderful! I must say, all these reviews for just two chapters (not counting this one) is impressive because when I first wrote Thoughts of the Truth I had 29 reviews for seven chapters! So! Let's make that review list even longer, shall we? Personally, I'm looking to break the record of reviews on Marcus: Broken Android, which is currently at 89 reviews (can we get ninety by Friday?), so please R&R!**

**I **** would like also to give a shout-out to one of my best friends, MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul, and I would advise you all to check out her new story, The Way Life Is, which is the fourth story in a series that was supposedly a trilogy...? Well, no matter, go check it out now and up the review count! I order you! Anyways, here you go!**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

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"Hi, Chase," a dark figure said, silhouette in the shadows. "How's my favorite boy doing?"

"Douglas…?" Chase asked. "What are you doing here? And how did you get in?"

"Oh," Douglas laughed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Well, you know, now that you've asked, I had a little help."

Chase looked at Douglas, scrutinizing him. _His body posture and the way he holds himself shows that he is probably not here to stir up a fight… but then why _is_ he here? Doesn't he know that this is the worst place to be, with an angry ex-brother who's got a dangerous weapon called a thermo-blaster and three bionic kids who would love nothing more than to dispose of him forever…?_

_No,_ Chase thought. _Two bionic kids. _

_One's already listened and understood him._

_One's already comprehended his place and wondered what **he** must be thinking._

_One's already related to him; knowing what it's like to be unappreciated, to be the misunderstood, odd one out._

Douglas smiled. "Lost in thought, Chase? Thinking about why I'm here and since I don't have any weapons on me I must be here for some entirely unknown reason? Thinking about how much we really are alike?"

Chase looked up from the ground. He didn't express any surprise over Douglas almost reading his thoughts, but he said, "Then why are you here, if not to fight?"

Douglas smiled. "That's an easy answer. I'm here because—"

* * *

Bree and Adam were training in the lab near the open center, which was dubbed the "Fight Arena," doing hand-to-hand combat, in which there were no bionics allowed. While Bree was winning, Adam was losing by a landslide.

"It's not fair, Bree! You use your super-speed to attack me and you're not supposed to use bionics in this round! I might as well not hold back and punch you in the face with my super-strength!"

Bree shrugged. "Then I guess this is a training session of bionic hand-to-hand combat. Do you want to do another round?"

Adam groaned. "I'm just going to lose again if you use your speed." Then he brightened visibly. "Why don't I just go find Chase and tell him that we can play Bionic Bowling and I can stop being the losing opponent?"

Bree smiled. "Of course," she said, dragging out the "of." "You're going to destroy the lab with your heat vision or your blast-wave or your strength. This is why sometimes we don't let you do anything!"

Adam looked at her sadly. "I'm not useless, you know. You'd need me on a mission for my strength and my... strength..." he trailed off.

Bree frowned. "Actually, _and_ technically, Chase _is_ just as strong as you because he could use his telekinesis to move boulders and whatnot."

Adam stopped short from whatever he was going to say. "But—but… I…" He stuttered, before walking towards the lab doors. "I'm going to go get a snack."

Bree stared after him, shocked. What was wrong with him? She's always bantered with him playfully, but now it seemed that Adam was taking everything seriously, much too seriously. Since when did Adam ever do this? Why was he acting this way?

Adam was about to open the lab doors when Donald walked in and crashed straight into Adam. Adam was heavy and since Donald didn't weigh much, Adam was still standing upright, while Donald flew backwards from the impact of the hit and landed face-down, mere centimeters away from the steel lab doors that could have crushed his skull.

"_Ouch!_" He yelled. "My forehead!" Donald rubbed the bruise gingerly, looking up at the looming lab doors that could have caused a severe concussion, then to Bree, who was giggling but trying unsuccessfully to hide it behind her well-manicured hand, before finally saying to Adam, "Good thing you didn't ruin my hair."

Bree rolled her eyes (of _course_ that's all Mr. Davenport would be worried about!) before turning to Donald and saying, already bored, "So what do you want? Yet another mission?"

Donald stared at her, and then said, in an eerily calm tone of voice, "Bree, don't use that tone of voice with me."

Bree scowled, but didn't say anything in a retort.

"This is very important and serious, Bree. And you should know about this as well, Adam. Eddy has been hacked once more and an intruder is upstairs. I watched the security camera footage, but I can't make heads or tails of it." He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Bree or Adam to offer to help.

Bree shrugged. "What I find interesting enough is that for being a brilliant, billionaire scientist, you can't install a good security home system."

Donald yelled, "That's _enough,_ Bree! Enough about the smart home security system!"

Bree retorted, "Well, I'd stop bugging you about it if it weren't so faulty that Douglas or Krane could hack into it!"

Adam said inconspicuously, "You know, it's nice that you're having a cute little father-daughter moment, but aren't we going to watch the footage?" He lifted his arms above his head in an apologetic shrug. "But it's _just_ a suggestion," he said sarcastically.

Donald turned around, surprised; having completely forgotten Adam was there. "Of course, Adam," he said. He walked over to the cyber-desk quickly and pulled out an iPad with the Davenport insignia with the three red rings crisscrossing over each other.

Bree, Adam, and Donald watched with interest as he rewound the footage and paused it at a point where the intruder was seen talking to Chase…

"That's him," he said. "Who is it? Can you tell who it is?"

"Douglas," Bree said immediately. "Who else has a score to settle with you? Who else would want to ruin your life after you practically ruined his?"

Donald hollered, "I didn't ruin his life! He's the one who practically ruined yours!" Bree raised her eyebrows and put her hands out, palms up, as a sign of "I meant no harm." Donald then paused and regained his composure. "It could be Krane," he said. "He wants to destroy you, Adam, and Chase so you no longer stand in his way…"

Bree yelled, "Then they may still be up there! Chase may be in danger!" She grabbed Donald and Adam and practically flew upstairs using her super-speed.

But when they got there, Chase was still standing in the hallway, facing away from them. He seemed to be deep in some thought.

"Chase?" Bree asked tentatively, walking slowly towards him. "What's wrong?"

Chase looked up; he had been muttering to himself. _What about? _Donald and Bree wondered. "What? Oh, no, nothing—nothing's, uh, wrong." Chase looked away.

Donald grabbed Chase's arm, forcing Chase to make eye contact. "Chase, something's bothering you. Who just spoke to you?"

Chase's head darted upward. "No one!" He yelled, maybe a little too quickly.

Donald narrowed his eyes. "Don't try lying to me. I watched the security footage for the hallway and someone was there, talking to you. Was it Douglas? Krane?"

Chase looked around, anywhere but Donald's piercing stare. He sought refuge looking into Bree's eyes, but all he saw was disgust. "I thought we told you that we appreciated you," she said, scowling. "What _are you hiding?"_

Chase gulped, then averting his gaze towards Adam's. Adam looked up, as he'd been toying with a stain on his shirt. "Huh… me? Oh, yeah," he said. "Going into interrogating mode," he said, moving his hand over his face, whereupon his facial expression changed from goofy to serious. "WHAT'S YOUR GAME, MISTER?" Adam yelled at Chase.

Chase flinched at the unexpected loudness, and rubbed his ears. "Ouch!" He shouted. "Adam, don't talk so loud! At least let me know ahead of time when you're going to yell!" He winced inwardly on how silly that sounded. Adam was Adam, he would yell when he wanted to yell and he would be quiet when he wanted to be quiet.

Donald glanced at Adam and Bree, and then released his grip on Chase. "Chase, I know you're hiding something from us, and the last thing I want to do is force it out of you by yelling or torturing or inflicting pain on you. But I want to say this: the information you may be hiding could be crucial to finding Krane or Douglas' whereabouts. They both went separate ways, based on how Douglas was trying to kill Krane with the heat gun. So if we can find one, maybe we can track down the other. Do you understand, Chase? Do you understand how important this information could be?"

Chase stared at Donald, his hazel eyes boring into Donald's deep chocolate brown eyes. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," was all he said. He then walked away, onto the elevator.

Donald's face crumpled.

Bree patted his shoulder. "He'll confess eventually. The Chase we know always cracks under pressure."

"Uh-huh, right" Donald said, dragging out the "i" sound in "right." "And the Leo that we all know is 100% of the time a wise, caring, calm person who is elegant, poised, and graceful."

Bree rolled her eyes. "Sarcasm? Really? Now?"

Donald brushed her hand off his shoulder. "Bree, I'm sorry, but decoding this footage means a lot to me. If the visitor was Douglas, he may have tried once again to get Chase to join him. And based on how Chase is acting, he may have actually, seriously considered joining him. This is dangerous, really dangerous!" He began running around in small circles, mumbling to himself frantically, "What am I going to do? What are _we_ going to do? This is dangerous, very dangerous!"

Adam spoke up for the first time. "Uh, maybe I could help."

Donald clenched his hands into clawed fists and moved them up and down in extravagant gestures. "Again, Adam—you can help us figure out how to get Chase to confess when a) Leo becomes wise, kind, caring, and elegant and graceful and b) when I become ugly and old, which I am, of course, NOT!" Near the end of his rant, he calmed down and ran his hands through his hair, smiling smugly.

Bree snorted. "You wear _guy-liner."_ She placed her hands on her hips. "Enough said."

Donald yelled in frustration, "It's not _guy-liner!_ It's complementary* makeup to go with my hair!"

Bree snickered. "Even worse," she said.

Adam interrupted once again. "Um, Mr. Davenport-I really do think I could help with this."

Donald had been putting his head in his hands, being very careful so as not to mess up his perfect hair, but he looked up finally and said, "Adam, now is the worst time of all possible times to be joking, but go ahead. Shoot." He braced himself mentally, by reassuring himself that the worst thing that Adam could possibly think of was to hire fantastical monkeys to teach Chase the art of honesty, and physically, by placing his hands gently, palms down on the marble-and-granite mix counter-top in the kitchen.

Adam continued, "I could force the secret out of Chase, physically, you know, like the Heimlich maneuver forces an object out of a person's throat."

Bree's mouth dropped open. "You actually learned something in school?"

Adam looked away, hurt. "I was just making a comparison," he said.

Bree put her hand on his shoulder. "Adam!" she exclaimed. "I was just joking. But if you do get Chase to confess, don't go too far beyond the boundaries, okay? He's our brother and I don't want him to be seriously injured just to find out an impossibly important secret that may have our life in its hands."

Donald and Adam stared at her.

Bree shifted uncomfortably. "I _may_ have phrased that wrong." She sighed and looked away.

Donald nodded, almost imperceptibly. "So go ahead, Adam," he said. "I think Chase is in the lab. Think of it like a game of bionic brother toss."

Adam smiled big. "Aw, man, finally! Bionic Brother Toss has a scientific meaning!" He punched the air with his right fist and skipped, yes, _skipped,_ down to the lab.

* * *

Adam was walking into the lab looking for Chase. He peered over the Mission Specialist Desk and then inside and behind the capsules, but Chase wasn't there... hm, where could Chase be? He honestly preferred the former lab compared to this one; it was bigger, cozier, and, well, and shared a lot more memories in that old lab that he still considered "home." He liked the new lab's design, really, he did, but it just didn't have that comfortable, snug feeling that the older lab did.

"Chase!" he called. "Do you want to play a game?" Chase didn't respond, and Adam didn't hear a sound.

_Ooh,_ he thought. _I know how much Chase hates Bionic Brother Toss. Oh, I should draw suspicion away by saying the exact opposite!_

"Chase!" he shouted to the _seemingly_ empty lab. "I want to play a game with you that's _not_ Bionic Brother Toss!" _Saved it!_ he mentally cheered.

Adam walked all the way around the perimeter around the lab, still wondering where Chase could be hiding. "Chase, I know you're there!"

"Chase!" He exclaimed, one last time. "Chase, come out, come out, wherever you are!" He clapped his hands cheerfully like he and his little brother were playing just a simple game of hide-and-seek...

That concerned a matter of life or death...

And was crucial to the world, possibly...

And was of course vital to what happened to the Davenport family's relationship and broken home...

_Okay,_ Adam thought in his rare moments of enlightenment. _This isn't just a simple game. I need to find Chase! But I sure could use a snack first. Darn, where did Mr. Davenport put that mini-fridge!? The old lab had one. One more reason to like that one better than this one... Don't get distracted, Adam! But I'm so hungry. I need to eat something. I have to find Chase first! But now my stomach is really rumbling and I can't focus..._

_Oh, all right, _he gave in to his mind. _Mm... I _think_ the fridg_e _was in the hexagonal compartments... how do I get down there again? Aha! That iPad that Bree had used to trap Krane during the battle! If I can find that, I can get down to the mini-fridge._

Adam rummaged around the drawers in the desks when he found an iPad that had the special insignia with the "Control" label on it. He studied it for a moment, before finally grinning. "Buttons!" He said, happily pushing a random one that just happened to be the "Open" button. One of the hexagonal floor tiles of the lab opened up, about two tiles adjoining the tile he was currently standing on, and then he walked over to and slowly edged down the ridges that counted as a makeshift ladder on the vertical edge of the tall, turned-on-end tunnel.

He then stepped cautiously into the underground area, looking for a fridge. _Aha!_ he thought, cheerily. There it was; the magnificent Davenport refrigerator, capable of holding up to three-thousand tons of food! He was about to take a step towards the refrigerator when something moved in the corner of his eye and he saw something that he least expected to see.

* * *

Meanwhile, upstairs, Bree was pacing, waiting for Adam to return. It had been about forty-five minutes to an hour when she finally stopped and said to Donald, who was sitting down at one of the bar stools, "What is taking Adam so long? Chase isn't really that tiny. And his hair is so spiky and tall you could see it from a mile away!"

Donald sighed. "I don't know, Bree. But you _have_ to have faith in Adam. He'll find Chase." He banged his head on the counter. "Oh, what am I saying? He probably stopped for his pre-mid-afternoon snack-after he had his pre-pre-early-mid-afternoon snack... wait, he has lunch, and then divides the time between lunch and dinner with the "mid-afternoon" section and then from there between that and afternoon to three sections, pre-mid-afternoon, mid-mid-afternoon... post-mid, and _then_ mid-afternoon and then pre-post-mid-afternoon, post-mid-afternoon, post-post-mid-afternoon, and _then_ we have dinner..."

Bree groaned and said, "My head is spinning with all of those 'pres' and 'posts' and 'mid-afternoons!' Anyway, maybe Adam doesn't know that Chase is, for certain, in the lab. Maybe he's somewhere in the house. I know he didn't go outside. I would have seen him," she stated succinctly.

Donald mumbled something to himself that sounded suspiciously like "I need to go to the wax shop," whereas Bree stared at him like he was crazy, thinking about getting waxed while Chase was hiding an important secret and Adam was being... Adam.

Bree then began opened her mouth to inform Donald that while Adam was feasting on yogurt and pudding that she wanted to go shopping with Caitlin and Lindsey to pass the time when the klaxon began blaring.

* * *

**There you go! Chapter Two! How did you like it? Did you hate it? Please review and leave your thoughts! I am so sorry about the cliffhanger, but it's how I cope ;-) Anyone understand that reference? Shout-out in the next chapter if you do! Now, thoughts as to why the alarm/klaxon is going off? Could it possibly have to do with little Chasey? Tell me what you think! **

**And those on the spoilers list, spoilers will be PMed to you in about two days time. Got it? So, again, review! And I may update Saturday!**

**Oh, and by the way, I had a lot of fun writing Adam's schedule for meals; all those "pres" and "posts" and "mid." Haha! Did you enjoy it as much as I did? What was your favorite part? Tell me! **

**Footnote #1: Some of you may think that it is "complimentary," but I actually mean "complementary." Don't understand? Look it up in the dictionary.**

**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)**


	4. Interrogation

**Hey, y'all! So since these chapters are all much longer, (I'm planning to have all of 'em longer than 2,000 words) it takes longer to write them. So there is a strict schedule for when I update this story: every Saturday and Wednesday. Sound good? Don't freak out if I'm slightly off schedule... **

**Anyways, here you go!**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

* * *

Bree yelped in alarm, "Why is the klaxon going off? I'm not quarantined! I was wearing my mission suit during the last mission, I swear it! And I was on time! I was there before the boys!" Near the end of her panicked speech her super-speed-talking began to glitch and by the last sentence she was talking so fast that at first, Donald thought that she had said, "I was there and I heard a voice!"

He grabbed Bree and shook her, hard. "Bree! Bree!" He yelled just as frantically. "Calm down or you're going to glitch!" Bree's eyes widened in fear at the last time she couldn't control her speed and gradually calmed down.

"But Mr. Davenport, why is the alarm going off?" she replied.

Mr. Davenport shouted over the blaring beeps, "Security may have been breached or there's a downloading process that brought down the firewall and the security system has been overloaded."

Bree hardly understood that, but she knew "firewall" and "overloaded" were _not _good words to hear, especially after that TEDDY incident where Stephanie and her friends had been over for a sleepover and got the fright of their life.

"But I didn't run any virus scans or downloads on the technology I created this week!" He mumbled, practically to himself and to no one in particular.

He then began to pace quickly. "I sent the highly experimental gravity belt back to the offshore facility; I cracked the code on the C++ virus, and the programming for the exoskeleton has been fixed," he finished, ticking off the list of possible problems that could cause an alarm to go off. "I feel like there's something missing!"

Bree added, "What about that freeze-gun-whatchamacallit? Do you think Leo accidentally aimed it at one of the databases' systems' wires downstairs?"

"Cryoblaster," Donald corrected. "No, I don't think so. I also fixed that; there are several programs requiring identification to pass through the "Unlock" mode where you can actually push the locked buttons to activated the particle resistance inside the incubator…"

Bree threw her arms up in the air. "Yeah, yeah, I get it! But what are we missing, then? I know you're a horrible scientist who's every invention goes wrong somehow—"

"They only go wrong because _you_ mess with them! Every single one of them worked well until Leo came along and influenced you, Adam, and Chase!" Donald interrupted, angrily.

"—But there's still something that's on the tip of my tongue—" Bree continued.

"—Lodged in the back of some forgotten corner of my mind—" Donald added.

"_Chase,"_ they finished together, still for just a split second, and then both running downstairs, Bree using her speed, and Donald sprinting with a speed almost to match hers.

* * *

Chase glanced in trepidation as he looked up from the program on Donald's cyberdesk that he was working on in the storage area of the lab, underneath the hexagonal tiles, where he had hoped that no one would find him. The klaxon was going off! The klaxon went off because of all sorts of things, but he didn't know it could go off because he'd accessed some forbidden files that were most likely locked. Donald and Bree would surely figure out he was doing something clandestine on the cyber-desk. Hopefully he still had enough time to finish what he was doing…

Had he heard footsteps? He listened carefully, and then spun around and resumed his rapid typing into the touch-screen's keypad. It was probably nothing at all; just a sparking failed invention, or the hum of the mini-fridge.

But then he heard a loud creaking step and then a door swing open. His heart froze and then nearly leapt out of his chest as he wondered if Adam, Bree, or Donald had discovered he was down here.

But luckily, it wasn't the doors that lead to this secretive room where he was typing commands into databases. It was… well, it certainly sounded _oddly suspiciously _like the refrigerator door opening—

_Oh, no! _Chase thought in panic. _Adam's down here! I bet they sent him down there to force what happened back in the hallway with Douglas out of me. Well, they can try, but they won't be able to. At least not until I finish what I'm doing. And I intend to finish it today. Now._

He carefully saved all of the binary that went into the JavaScript format as well as the C++ commands that went into the bypassing security code's files where he could remotely hack into the security software system and override Eddy… hopefully. _You'd think by now that Donald would fix Eddy and make him practically unbreakable—but then again, I am the smartest person on earth/a genius that has no bounds for his smarts. What's one meager smart-home system security designed by someone half as smart as me? _If the C++ code was hacked, he could use the JavaScript to continue through the technological barrier and then move on to the C programming, which only he and a few select Davenports could hack, including Donald and Douglas. To Tasha, Leo, Adam, and Bree, it would look like a bunch of black and white numbers that rolled on and on and on in a sickening format…

He shut down the cyberdesk and then peered carefully out the sliding doors, being careful not to make a sound. Where was Adam now? He crept back into the storage area and used his super-sense: sight, to x-ray scan the adjoining rooms (five in total) and saw Adam's outline, in which he was in the food stock area, of course, rummaging for something to eat. Leave it to Adam to forget why he was even down in the storage rooms in the first place.

Chase decided Adam would never find him, not as long as he activated his super-hearing so he could hear Adam from at least twenty yards away. He would have plenty of time to shut down the program after downloading it onto a spare flash-drive inconspicuously labeled something like "Daily Life In Ancient China: May 2014" so it would seem like something for school. And then he could hide and hopefully outrun Adam. It was highly unlikely if Adam _knew _he would try to run, but if he took the element of surprise he could escape Adam. All he had to do now was finish the security hack. If the process was aborted, he could quite possibly lose everything that would let he and Douglas succeed in—

Adam threw open the door, making Chase startle out of his thoughts and whirl around, hands pressed protectively against the desk, where the very important files were.

"Adam!" He yelled. "I—I was… I…" he sputtered and flopped around for an answer like a fish out of water. "… Just checking for… updates on, uh, my fantasy football team…?" He finished weakly.

Adam didn't even bother to say anything. He stormed towards Chase and yelled, "What were you thinking?"

Chase stammered, "A-Adam, I can e-explain!"

Adam then finished his sentence. "You were having a video game party and I wasn't invited!?"

Chase looked around nervously and fidgeted in Adam's grasp. _This reminds me of when Adam held me by the scruff when he thought that __**I**__ was the one who stole his ePod… oh…that was so long ago. That was when life was simple; that was when we didn't know anything about out true heritage; and that was when, well… we were all happy. And we didn't worry about anything—we were kept confined in the lab, yes, confined, but… __**safe.**__ We had no idea about the dangers we could have possibly faced in the outside world._

_And then we met Leo._

_And that was when our lives changed._

Suddenly, Chase was snapped out of his thoughts for the second time that afternoon as he felt a breeze, a chilling, whippy, breeze, and then his sister's figure as well as her messy hair was standing next to him. And she didn't look happy. "Chase, what's going on?" She asked more than a bit angrily. "And don't you try to weasel your way out of this one! Mr. Davenport should be down any minute to lock the doors so you can't get away! I want answer out of you, Chase Davenport, and I want answers out of you _now!_"

Chase gulped. Bree did not look happy, and surely she was just the tip of the iceberg. Donald then stomped into the room, yelling things to no one in particular. "What has been going on down here? And why are you on my cyberdesk? Why won't anyone tell me what's going on now? And who replaced my beautiful lavender aloe shampoo with _red food coloring dye?_"

Adam grinned and raised his hand. "I did that," he said proudly. "Looks like you got yourself some rad red streaks, Daddy Davenport!"

Donald let the comment slide and then turned to face Chase. "Chase! What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed talking to whoever was in the hallway! And I ask again, just _what were you doing on my cyberdesk?_"

Chase let one eye slide over to the right and peer around the back of his head to see if the download was almost done.

_78% of the downloading process finished._

Chase breathed a sigh of relief. If he was able to finish this and distract his family from his scheme, he could get to Douglas and talk to him, which he badly needed to do.

"So what are you all doing down here?" he asked, mentally cursing himself for starting out so feebly.

Bree answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm like honey from a beehive, "We came down here because there's nothing better to do today than hang out in a dingy, dark lab that's dripping water with dorky brothers while I could be going to the mall and hanging out with Caitlin and Lindsey and ditching you loser," she said, all in one breath.

Donald placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bree, that's enough." He whispered in her ear, still loud enough for Chase to hear, "Don't be too brash or else you'll scare him away!"

Chase said smugly, "Just because you whisper it doesn't mean I can't hear it."

Bree rolled her eyes. "I'm _sure_ you could hear someone in Azerbaijan talking about what they're going to eat today!"

Chase smiled. "Actually, I can," he said, ignoring his sister's cynicism. "A farmer today is going to have a soup called _kufta bozbash,_ which is a pea soup with lamb meatballs and boiled potatoes. The meatballs in this soup are large, hearty, and made of minced lamb and rice, sometimes with a zesty dried plum inside_*."_

He glanced nervously towards the glowing screen that he stood so protectively in front of.

_83%_ _of the downloading process finished._

_What is taking so long? _Chase wondered. "Has anyone tried kufta bozbash?" He tried desperately.

Adam said, "Hot or cold, boz or bash, put it in my mouth!" He grinned widely.

Chase looked at him, and then said, "Really!?"

Adam stopped grinning. "You _asked,_" he said petulantly.

"Never mind that," Bree said. "There's no way out of this," she said to Chase, who's eyes were darting around, scanning for exits, Bree supposed. "You might as well spill."

"It's not important," Chase said, trying to shrug it off, although it didn't work on his sister.

"Then if it wasn't important, why are you acting so jumpy? If there's nothing to hide, _why are you being so secretive?" _She said, almost scaring Chase when she raised her voice near the end.

"Because if it's not important, then why do you want to know?" Chase silently congratulated himself on that comeback. He was definitely getting better at those! Hopefully, Bree would have to think of something witty to retort with and the downloading process would finish with time to spare. _Hopefully._

Just like Chase had predicted, Bree opened her mouth and snapped it shut. "Ha!" he said. "Can't think of anything to say now, can you?"

While Bree turned to Donald for help, he took another look at the desk.

_89% __of the downloading process finished._

_Phew,_ Chase thought. _11% left to go. I hope I can hold them off._

Donald interrupted, "Chase, why are you acting this way? What did Douglas or Krane to do you? Are you under some mind control!? Don't you remember what he did to _Leo?_"

Chase stayed silent. That would fuel Donald to begin ranting and then he could wait and by the time Davenport was ranting the downloading process would be finished long by then.

"Chase, I care about you! I need you to tell me what happened; I absolutely need to know what happened! You seem different, you look different, and you aren't acting the way you normally do! What are you hiding? Do you want us all to die? We will all die if you're withholding information from us about what Krane's next schemes are! Chase, you've just got to tell us!"

Chase scowled at the desk as if that would help it move along faster.

_95% __of the downloading process finished._

_Rant a little longer,_ Chase begged Donald in his mind. _Wow, I'd never thought I'd say that._

"And my hair! If Douglas captures us again, my hair will be ruined! He'll ruff it up and then cut it all off! He used to do that when we were kids, you know? For fun he would sneak into my bedroom when we were kids and cut my hair in a way that made all of the kids laugh at me at school!" Of course, Donald would rant about his hair at a time like this.

Bree suddenly caught eyesight of the glowing desk behind Chase. "What's that?" she asked, curiously.

Chase, in despair, threw a hopeless glance.

_96% __of the downloading process finished._

_"_Hey, Chase, I asked you a question," Bree pried. "What's that?"

When Chase didn't respond, Bree tugged at Donald's sleeve. "Um, Mr. Davenport, Chase is doing something you _might_ want to look out," she said.

Donald brushed her hand away. "Not now, Bree, I'm not done lecturing Chase! And the streaks! These streaks! Douglas will never let it go..." His voice faded away when he finally caught sight of the desk. "Chase, you didn't," he said, but it was too late. For him.

_97% __of the downloading process finished._  


Chase leapt in front of Donald. "Don't touch that!" He yelled, and threw a force field around the desk just as Donald reached to abort the process, who in return, received a small electric shock. "Ow!" He yelled, shaking his hand back and forth.

Bree sped towards him and yelled, "Give it up, Chase!" She began to create a cyclone around him, but he simply used his molecular kinesis to grab her when she was passing him and hold her in the air, unable to move. He made sure no vital organs were hurt. She would be fine.

_98% ____of the downloading process finished._

Adam began advancing towards Chase and shot his upgraded heat vision, which was not just lasers anymore but fire beams. Chase leapt out of the way using his levitation and used his magnetism app to pull a crowbar towards him. Adam looked at it nervously, and reached over to the support beams and yanked one off using his super strength.

They began to fight each other with the metal weapons, which seemed a lot like sparring training. Finally, Adam hurtled his bar at Chase's middle, who then in turn blocked it with his crow bar and deflected it back towards Adam, in which it hit his torso like a boomerang and knocked him backwards.

_99% ____of the downloading process finished._

Adam and Bree both picked themselves up and began circling Chase, who was ready for them. He created the plasma energy orb, split it in half, so there were two foot-long glowing blue orbs in each hand. When Bree rushed towards him, he threw one of the balls towards her, and when Adam tried one again to zap him with his heat vision, the oncoming orb collided with the fire, the orb being the stronger of the two weapons, and continued towards Adam, who leapt out of the way, barely. He lunged towards Chase, but it was too late.

_100% ____of the downloading process finished._ Please eject flash-drive safely.

"Done," Chase said, and with that he grabbed the flash-drive. He made a break for the door, while his family stood there silently, frozen in place. And then suddenly, chaos ensued.

* * *

Douglas ran his hands over a worn, leather-bound book that was a bright green on the outside, the kind of green that flashed like emeralds, the kind of green that showed the true beauty of grass, the kind of green that made your eyes ache to see the color again, and again, and again, until it was the only green you ever saw out of emerald-tinted eyes.

The kind of green that his wife's eyes had sparkled and shone.

Did Chase ever wonder why the rest of his family had the brown eyes and brown and black hair, with the dominant gene? Did he ever think that for a moment, he was meant to be the star? The leader? The one who got the attention, the limelight, and the spotlight?

_Beryl_*. The word was like a forbidden caramel candy resting on his tongue, so sweet, so savory, so magical.

Douglas shook his head. He couldn't let himself get distracted over Beryl. Not now. He could daydream about her gorgeous eyes and luscious hair and her loud, braying laugh that was so different from the expected, princess-like "tinkling" laugh that one assumed would come from such a beautiful woman. Her laugh… Douglas loved her laugh; her laugh was the one thing that propelled him through a hard day when he and Donald were still together.

He opened the book gently—it was old, but it was something that meant helluva lot to him—and turned to the last page; the last words from Beryl.

_Dear Douglas,_

_There are many things in the world that I can love about you. You're sardonic, sarcastic, petulant, and silly. You've got the spirit of a child in you, something admirable that most stiff, uptight adults could never have-and that's something that we both share. You're never afraid to speak your mind, and you always let others in on your exact thoughts, nary a thought to sprinkle just a tad bit of sugar. It's honest, it's open, and it's lovable.  
_

_I wish I could say that you're sweet and I love you for that, but let's admit it: you're not sweet, you _know_ you're not sweet, and, well—that's why I picked you out of all of the men in college as my boyfriend. Because _you _weren't afraid to tell me that I had spinach on my teeth and there was a cockroach on my sandal while all the other boys told me my smile was fabulous and shoved a date on me that night when I didn't want to do. All the other boys just fell for me because of my looks, but you didn't. You fell for me because of who I was. _

_You weren't afraid to tell me that my hair wasn't combed, there were leaves and twigs in it, or that you personally had no interest in flirting; if anything, it was what you would have last wanted to do in front of me. And maybe that's why you loved me in the first place. Because _I_ saw you for who you were really were. You never showed your genius in school for fear of being mocked; you never let yourself run and roam free. And maybe that's why you thought of me as your comfort—I was willing to see the reason for going to the dark side. I was the one willing to see who you really were._

_I know your brother turned you out of Davenport Industries. I know that he didn't see your logic; didn't see you grow up; didn't let you do _anything at all._ But maybe that's no excuse for trying to take back the kids and turn them into mindless, bionic, destructive soldiers/weapons.  
_

_Maybe they would have been better with you. I know that with Donald, they would have grown up safely, trained to save the world. I know you well, Douglas, so well if you gave me one clue about you and your location, I would know what you ate and how you acted. I would go to the other end of the world for you. I could write a very embarrassing biography of your life, Douglas, because I know you so well.  
_

_Not that you would have been an excellent father, but you always treated them like weapons. They are human beings, Douglas, and they deserve to be treated like human beings._

_I remember when I first gave birth to them. I remember when I first held Adam, and then laughed with Bree, and sang with Chase. I remember it all, and it all comes back in flashes, you know? It all comes back. But they never do*. _

_And that's why I'm leaving now. I love you, Douglas, more than I could ever imagine. But I can't see you tear yourself apart; act like you don't care and could care less; act in a way that would have ashamed me. And that's how you've been acting, isn't it? That android project you've been working on, you've set that on Donald, haven't you? And this should be his last year, shouldn't it? I hope you treated him well. I never did get to know him, but maybe it was best. I don't think I could lose another child I'd grow attached to._

_Maybe you'll find me one day. Maybe _I'll_ find you. And when we meet again, we'll both be changed. Maybe we'll be changed so much the way we feel about each other will change. But I know that when I see you, somewhere out there,* I will still love you. And I will hope that you've thought about it and come back to this light side; this light side with warmth, and comfort, and safety. You'll come back to me, and Donald, and the kids. And then, and maybe then, the kids will forgive you. And Donald._

_And only then will I._

_Love,  
Beryl_

* * *

**Yeah, I know. Mushy love letter. But I had fun writing it. But, wow! Over 4,000 words! What do you all think? Exciting enough? Did you struggle to wade through the chapter? Just right? Tell me what you think in that review box down there! :-D **

**So I know for some of you you're confused about what Chase is downloading and what happened between him and Douglas in the hallway, or why Beryl left and whether she's really dead or just gone somewhere, and where she's gone, but I promise, _every single thing,_ down to the last detail, will be explained in the story much later on. And there will be multiple flashbacks about Beryl. What do you think about her? Tell me in a review!  
**

**Each chapter will have a short entry in that priceless book that Douglas owns. So that's what's happening next! Oh, and could you do me all a favor and visit daphrose's new story "Glitch Fever?" I've got spoilers and trust me, you will _not_ regret it. So please, do that! And one more thing: I have a poll on my profile asking... you'll see! But I really need you all to vote; it's pretty vital to what happens when Clandestine Covers is finished. Okay? Guests may vote in reviews. Bye now!**

**Footnote No. 1: I was just curious about cuisine in Azerbaijan so all that is true; I thank Wikipedia for the knowledge about _kufta bozbash._**

**Footnote No. 2: This name should fit Beryl perfectly, because it means "green jewel" or "emerald." Am I right?  
**

**Footnote No. 3: Anyone guess that reference from a pop song? Shout-out in the next chapter if you do!**

**Footnote No. 4: That's also a reference, but to an older song from a musical called The Music Man. Shout-out in the next chapter if you can guess it!**

**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)**


	5. Absconded

**Hey, y'all! I am so, so, so, sorry for the long long long wait! I really kinda procrastinated... *shifts uncomfortably.* I decided I probably shouldn't stick to a schedule/deadline; it makes me too stressed out to finish writing. You know how you can't really write well unless you get in the _zone?_ That came out wrong... But I'm digressing! My point it, it took me a long time to get back _in_ the zone. **

**Anyways, to kick off this update, I would like to give an update to a friend of mine, soccermonkey413, just 'cause she's awesome... am I forgetting something? OH, YEAH! And she's got this series of LR called "Subject G" that is really wonderful, so if you could take time to read that after you're done with this, that would be great! Really great! The newest one, Up In Flames, is published, so please check it out! So do that when you're done reviewing! Please!?**

**Oh, and you _will _get _very_ frustrated on the cliffhanger(s) in this chapter... solution? Go to the Bang Shrine? What is the Bang Shrine? Go to my profile (it's near the top) or daphrose's profile (hers is closer to the middle) to find out!**

**One more thing: I remember I had reference points from songs in the last chapter, wanting you guys to guess on where those references came from. I would like to congratulate Wizard101lvr, a guest, for guessing BOTH of the reference points correctly! Some of you only guessed one:  
**

**StealthySerpentineShadows (No. 4)  
sravyak13 (No. 3)**

**And then Wizard101lvr managed to guess the reference from Ch. 3 which _none_ of you tried to take a stab out. So congratulations, Wizard101lvr!**

**But here I am, digressing again! So here's your chapter!**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

* * *

Bree sped towards Chase, who was running out the hallway, but he darted out of the way and aimed a jab at her ankles. She flew up into the air and landed hard on her back, groaning in pain. "I don't get it," she moaned before passing out.

Donald looked at Chase with a mixture of fear and awe. Why had Chase always held back during training? If he could knock Bree unconscious in less than ten seconds, why did he always take at least a good ten minutes before he could beat his siblings in the "Fight Arena?" _So this is what Chase has been hiding, all these years. He knows that he's powerful. But he's too afraid to show it. He thinks his siblings will hate him and fear him. And he doesn't want to be feared. He wants to be loved. He wants to be paid attention to, like any normal human being._

_Somehow, the more powerful you get, the more people are afraid of you. And then they stop loving you. And that's what he's scared of._

All of these thoughts flashed through Donald's mind as he watched Adam begin to take on Chase. Adam was definitely stronger than Bree, and he and Chase struggled for the upper hand longer. Adam managed to grab the flash-drive when they were on the ground, wrestling, but Chase used his molecular-kinesis to grab the flash-drive and then he lifted Adam off the ground and held him just out of punching range. Chase then ran out the door, using his Magnetism App to break apart support beams to seal all the windows so they couldn't get out any other way besides the door. Donald looked up in fear as the stainless steal snaked its way around the windows' edges and blocked out the sunlight.

But before he left, Chase looked one last time at his family, his broken family. Bree, slumped against the cyber-desk, out cold, who wanted to be normal. Adam, who wanted to be appreciated for his smarts, still hovering in the air. Donald, standing at the end of the room, looking at Chase, this time, with sadness. _Why? _He seemed to be thinking. _You're not evil. I know you're not evil. But why are you doing this? This family is broken enough already._

Chase responded with his eyes, _I know. I know that we're broken. The team is falling apart. We all are. And this is why I'm taking this information. I'll be back. But I need to go. For now._

_But I only go to return._

_Remember that._

And with that final message, so final, _But I go only to return,_ he used his Magnetism App once more to seal up the doorway, the metal blocking the wedges of light, blocking the Davenports from all connection to the outside world.

* * *

Douglas was staring intently at one of the journal entries, closer near the beginning. Her good-bye note had been at the very end of the journal, but there were still several blank pages. Douglas noted in his mind that perhaps it could be foretelling she _would and could_ come back and finish the journal, completing his life. That's all he ever needed.

But this entry, this was so much earlier. It was documenting what Beryl thought of Douglas. He often laughed out loud at this one, and he certainly needed a laugh today. When would Chase come? He needed him to come soon. Soon.

_Dear Douglas,_

_I find that there are lots of things that I notice about you first off, and then a bunch of things that you hide deep inside of you once one gets to know a dark, mysterious, old soul like you. You're like a layer of sand—I see what's at the surface, and I find it interesting. I dig a little deeper, and I discover things about you that I never knew there were. And then, after so much scratching away, I find what you're like deep inside—your true soul. The treasure. The man I know you are. _

_What do I like about you? _

_-You're honest—to a fault_

_-You do what you set out to do—to a fault_

_-You tend to not care about what happens at the end of a long trip as long as the journey was worth it—to a fault_

_-You're handsome—__**not**__ to a fault; don't get a big head over that statement_

_-You like me—to a fault._

_-You never give up—to a fault._

_See a pattern? You do good things to a fault. And that's the main reason why I love you, Douglas. And I have a strong hunch that __**you know that,**__ and that's also why you loved me back._

_What do I dislike about you? Do you want me to be honest?_

_-You were willing to hide your true self if it meant fitting in_

_-_ _Given the chance, you would have turned Adam, Bree, and Chase into bionic soldiers of mass destruction_

_-You probably mistreated Marcus; don't ask how I know—but I know you __**very**__ well. Never underestimate a wife's undying love and knowledge of her husband_

_You're not evil, Douglas. I know you're not evil. But you let yourself be if you want to be, and that's why I am, honestly, scared to be around you sometimes. I know you would never hurt me physically, but when you're tired, angry, and upset, you don't think straight and then you do things that you regret later. And do I forgive you? Yes, Douglas, and I always will. One of my faults. But we must both toughen up, Douglas. We really must._

_She wants me to toughen up, _Douglas thought angrily. _Am I tough enough for you, Beryl? _But he didn't let himself work into a rage. He knew so much better than that. He knew that if he wanted to find her again, because _he knew, knew, knew _she wasn't dead, he would have to toughen up.

Mentally and physically.

Did he ever worry about what would happen to the Davenports after Chase went to him? He wouldn't work Chase for evil purposes, but he did know that he had something important for Chase to deliver. But when would he do it? And was he reconsidering running the errand? What if he told Donald? _I'd be ruined_, Douglas thought bitterly. _Completely, utterly, ruined. _

Chase needed to come soon.

_Soon, your time will come. __**Soon.**_

* * *

Donald stared in disbelief at what his youngest bionic son had just done. Something in Chase's eyes—that _glint_, that foretold knowledge; illicit, clandestine knowledge was being distributed and was something he knew about but never told. But he'd seen many glints of the eye in his lifetime—Douglas' glints, which were evil, merciless, and cruel; Bree's, which were happy and sparky when she talked to a boy; Adam's, when he, for once, proved that he was not just brawn but brain, too—and Chase's. His glint was deeper.

It was so much harder to decipher than Adam or Bree's because Chase wasn't a simple human being. Chase was a human with many feelings, Donald could tell, and all were mixed emotions. He knew he had saved Douglas from Krane's fireballs; he'd seen it all from the doorway. He knew that Chase would never betray his family; and that was how he knew now that the glint that had been in Chase's eyes when he'd sealed up the doors and windows wasn't evil.

It wasn't happy.

It wasn't goofy or shallow.

It was a glint that depicted braveness.

Sadness.

Loyalty.

And above all, honor.

And then Donald wondered briefly, _If all of the others have glints in their eyes that represent their character and personality, I wonder what _my_ glint looks like?_

_Do I even __**have**__ a glint? Does it match my personality?_

* * *

Chase would never have thought he'd do what he had just done. As he skirted down alleyways to avoid confrontation with any person, no matter how innocent or unconnected they were with him and his family, he wondered for the hundredth time, _Why did I lock my family in the storage lab area and fight and injure them? Why did I go through so much trouble for this flash drive?_

_Why did I do that? _

_Because this will help me find my biological mother._

_Because Douglas needs me. He's broken._

_Because it will solve my predicament, forever._

* * *

Chase navigated his way around town using his GPS, when suddenly, he hadn't been paying attention to the map in his mind and wandered into one of the more dangerous areas of town; in this case, a _particularly_ dangerous neighborhood. A place that Donald always made sure the kids avoided; crime rings often held their headquarters in some of the trashed and abandoned houses; graffiti screamed rude words on walls, and there were teenagers that were part of gangs lurking around every corner, ready to pounce and drag innocent teens into buying drugs or participating in illegal activities.

_Damnit! _Chase cursed mentally. _Why did I have to be so wrapped up in my thinking? Ugh. Hopefully I can get out of here without attracting any attention…_

Chase stepped quickly over an oozing pile of what was hopefully orange juice but seemed suspiciously like vomit, and then stepped into the shadows, hardly daring to breathe, heart-rate pumping out of his chest, as three boys walked down the alley.

They all wore gang colors of California, and he recognized one of them immediately—one of the most famous gang-leaders wanted all over California—_Tobacco.*_

He waited. What were they talking about? He smoothed the hair behind his ear with his right hand, a gesture that activated his bionic super-hearing.

"_So I was thinking that we could check out this new warehouse downtown. Y'know, that old junky one that no one lives in? There's plenty of space for the gang to live. I mean, there are going to be rats and all, but we've been through a lot worse." _The ringleader, Tobacco, spat the last statement out, literally, and a brownish gob of gunk landed close to Chase's shoes, and it took all of Chase's willpower to ignore it and force himself to not yell that it was disgusting. He strained, listening to the conversation at a higher level of sound.

"_No, Tobacco, someone already lives there. Remember? That crazy old guy with spiky rusty-blonde hair who was ranting about his kids and how he could never see 'em again. He really scared me. I bet he's mentally insane. Old guys; they should be up under lock and key_." The kid Streaks smoothed his hair, which was already a greasy and grimy mess, and shoved his hands in his dirty pockets.

"_Hey," _interrupted the third one._ "I don't know about you, but I feel like we're being watched…"_

"_Not now, Ratty!" _said the first one, Tobacco, impatiently._ "What's important is what's on our top priorities list: move into that warehouse because there's a lot of potential for it as headquarters, and try and stay out of sight of that kid… how did he do that? How?" _Tobacco muttered "how" over and over, as if in a trance.

The third one, a rat-faced, weasel-like character, suddenly yelled, terrified, "_What if that freaky kid is the one watching us?"_

Chase felt stung already. How did they know about him? He wasn't a monster… was he? He had sealed up the room for the Davenports' safety. He would know they'd try and come after him. But he needed all of his time to be focused on getting away, finding Douglas… and then he'd worry about being tracked down later.

"_But about that guy… the one yelling about his kids, the ones he could never see again… I think I have a good idea of how to get rid of him!" _Tobacco rubbed his hands together eagerly, and then whispered, _"Okay, Streaks, I dunno about you, but I have the same sensation Ratty does—I really do have a feeling that someone __**is**__ watching us." _He looked around uneasily, but Streaks were oblivious.

"_How are you going to get rid of him? Are we going out for Chinese to buy some egg rolls and a can of purple paint from the warehouse so we can…"_

"_Hush!" _Tobacco put his hand over Streaks' mouth, which was probably a big mistake, because Streaks wasn't called Streaks just for the purple highlights in his hair—also because he had dirty soot streaks all over every available inch of his skin—definitely not one of his more flattering qualities.

All three of them peered around in the darkness, turning in a slow-moving arc. Chase ducked further into the shadows. The last thing he wanted to happen was being attacked when he needed to get to Douglas ASAP. Ugh! He had to just let his thoughts wander and get lose, didn't he? He mentally cursed himself, and then clapped his hand over his mouth as he realized three things: he'd cursed out loud; he'd caught the attention of the three boys; they all caught him under the moonlight, which had just so nicely decided to shine right on him (_Stupid moon! _Chase thought), and they were in a mood to strike first, and ask questions later.

* * *

Douglas was back to pacing again. Could he ever stop? It was like some addictive exercise drug that he couldn't cease to do, like how Beryl loved coffee and how Donny couldn't spend a day without a computer… oh, those were the days, when they were still good-natured and push _never_ came to shove—

_Stop it, Douglas!_ He yelled at himself. _That's only making it worse. You may as well stop feeling sorry for yourself. Just hope Chase comes. Fast._

_But what if he doesn't come? _

_He could have gotten lost._

_Chase would never get lost. He's a human map!_

_What if he got attacked?_

_He's a highly trained and capable fighter that has taken down simulator ninjas that have been programmed to have spent their life fighting using hand-to-hand combat, and, if in the worse case, can use his bionics to fight._

_What if he decided to double-cross me again?_

Douglas' whirring mind paused, but resumed its creepily positive thinking quickly. _He wouldn't. He seemed so earnest when we talked. I __**know**__ he's on my side for real this time. He'll come through for me. He __**has**__ to._

_What if he didn't get away from his family in time?_

_He would have. He's more clever than them all, __**especially**__ Donny. He would have figured out a way to get that information to me._

But than the worst thought of all popped into his mind.

_What if he lost faith in me?_

* * *

**Lots of cliffhangers in Chase, Donald, and Douglas' predicaments! The solution? Review! I don't want a certain review count, but if I could get to 80 reviews, I would be _really_ happy and I would even update faster! *nudge.* If you have time, a keyboard/pad, and you're not afraid of that little box down there, GO REVIEW!  
**

**I have a little poll on my profile, by the way, asking whether I should update Marcus: Broken Android as soon as I can or wait until Clandestine Covers is finished and post a new Lab Rats story that has internal struggle... that's all I'm letting you know. And as soon as I get a decision, I will narrow decisions on what to do down even further! Just keep in mind the chapters will be shorter in Marcus: Broken Android, but I update more often. But in doing so, _this _story won't get updated as much, maybe once every one to two weeks or so. Thought I'd let y'all know! **

**Footnote No. 1: Anyone notice something, say, _interesting_, about that name? If anything's not ringing a bell, here's my hint: re-read Chapter 7 of Marcus: Broken Android! The first person to figure it out with or without references points gets a solo shout-out to kick off the next chapter and then anyone else who guesses it second and beyond gets a shout-out with the group!  
**

**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors... and these long A/Ns! :-D)  
**


	6. Intimidated

**Hey, y'all! I promised that I would get this up by the weekend, and I was right, wasn't I? This is going to be slightly short, but I reached my goal, over 2,000 words. So it should be fine. I think... I had humongous Writer's Block describing Beryl and Douglas' first date... ****And I would like to give a special shout-out to daphrose, for being one of the most kind and creative authors on this site, and a shout-out to her friend who has just joined, Chloe Elise 55! **Anyway, without much ado (I'm getting good at informative but brief A/Ns!), Chapter 5!  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

* * *

_All three of them peered around in the darkness, turning in a slow-moving arc. Chase ducked further into the shadows. The last thing he wanted to happen was being attacked when he needed to get to Douglas ASAP. Ugh! He had to just let his thoughts wander and get lose, didn't he? He mentally cursed himself, and then clapped his hand over his mouth as he realized three things: he'd cursed out loud; he'd caught the attention of the three boys; they all caught him under the moonlight, which had just so nicely decided to shine right on him (Stupid moon! Chase thought), and they were in a mood to strike first, and ask questions later._

"Hey!" Tobacco called out into the darkness. "What's going on here? Who's watching us?" He looked tough, standing with his arms in a boxer's position. He had a long, Neanderthal-shaped jawbone and brass knuckles. His shoes, with spikes on the toe, were most likely deadly in kicks to sensitive areas—for an ordinary, untrained in hand-to-hand combat. And Tobacco thought that he had this fight in the bag.

But he was completely wrong. Chase could, and would, run circles around Tobacco fight-wise, smarts-wise, and sassy-wise. And most of all, he was underestimated. He could easily take all three down simply with punching, kicking, and using the rule of Aikido*. If necessary, he would use his bionics. Who would believe a beat up, nonsense-talking gang leader? Chase was safe… and if he wasn't, he could always ask Davenport for the memory-wiping gizmo.

_You don't need that invention,_ a little voice spoke in Chase's mind, surprising him. _You can do it all on your own, _it continued. Chase mentally rolled his eyes and replied in his mind back to the voice, _What, like I'm telepathic? Yeah, right. _

_But you are! _The little voice insisted. _Like what happened a few hours ago. You read Donald's mind! You have to be!_

_I'm sure it was just a fluke,_ Chase thought desperately. Why was he so desperate to not believe he was telepathic?

Because there could be disastrous results, that's why.

And all of these crazy thoughts flashed through his mind in a single second, and Streaks' sneering voice brought him back to the surface; back the cold, hard face of reality. His predicament was certainly something he would have wanted to avoid in the first place, but if he could just get out of it by using this "telepathy" of his… could it work the other way, too? He could read people's thoughts _sometimes… _he shuddered to imagine what a telepathic glitch would be like.

_Focus, Chase!_ He once again brought himself to the present and thought grimly, _Well, I don't have any better options, do I? I didn't think so. So snap to it! Might as well try out. Better to be safe than sorry._

_Or is it?_ He thought sarcastically, but before he could digress mentally any further, the one closest to him, Tobacco, sneered, quite an ugly expression on an even uglier person.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?" Tobacco snarled, cracking his neck muscles.

Chase wasn't terrified; far from that, but he certainly wasn't happy and relaxed. He lowered into a fighting stance and said, "

Ratty, the most cautious of the three, tugged at Tobacco's sleeve, and whispered, "What if he's like the other one?" This was, of course, intercepted by Chase, and he wondered briefly, _Who is this other one?_ He decided to try out his telepathy while Tobacco and Ratty were arguing about whether they should confront Chase or not.

Chase began focusing on Ratty. It was hard to do intentionally; he'd only been able to do it _by accident_ all those other times, before he'd even _had _a hunch that he _was_ telepathic. _How am I even supposed to do this? _He mused. _It sure would be handy to have some kind of guidebook to telepathy._

He quit joking mentally and began channeling all over his power towards thinking about what Ratty was thinking. _Merge your thoughts together. Connect all dreams in combination. Link all loose ideas into one idea that makes sense. Think as one. Breathe as one. __**Fight**__ as one._

And with the seemingly harmless words that, strung together, made quite a powerful impact, he seemed to suddenly be _inside_ Ratty's head, if that was even possible. He wasn't exactly looking out of Ratty's point of _view,_ but he could kind of see what Ratty saw… on a different… how to describe it? Chase had trouble thinking of how he was _within _Ratty now—he shared thoughts in a one-way tunnel but couldn't _suggest_ anything remotely.

_More on that later,_ Chase thought desperately. He began searching a mumbo-jumbo of a mind, seeing scattered thoughts that floated through this mental mess, such as _Tobacco's gonna kill me if I mess up one more break-in, _or, _The initiation to get into this famous gang was hard enough, my folks have deserted me, I don't have any friends outside or inside the gang; they simply feel __**sorry**__ for me and they let me in…_

And reading those sad thoughts, Chase almost felt _sorry_ for Ratty… and then he understood why Ratty had felt mad about never having friends that liked him for who he was. They let him in because they knew he wouldn't last long in a life of crime. Why would he? He was a puny little rat-faced scrawny kid. And when he got arrested or sent to juvenile hall, no one would look back on the kid and say, _He was a good kid._ No, they'd laugh and shrug off his disappearance and think, _Eh, he's better off there. _

But then Chase stumbled across a thought that made him hurt, badly. It made him feel like he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. It was a thought that sent him screaming in terror and plunging into a darkness, a hellhole, a pit of horror.

* * *

_He went only to return._ _He went only to return. He went only to return, _Donald reassured himself. _He would have never left us to die in here. He knows the refrigerator is here. He knows that this is a safe place to be. He knows that we'll be all right._ But all the same, something panged in Donald's heart, something that left him feeling hollow; like a broken shell of what he used to be, when they were happy, just him, Adam, Bree, and Chase—no Leo, wrecking things, no Tasha, being overly protective, and no Douglas, making him wonder what he had done to Chase.

_Aren't you forgetting someone? _His subconscious mind suggested. _No!_ His conscious mind yelled back. _That's my family and friends! I'm not forgetting anyone!_

He forced his memories and feelings back; held them captive; refused to let the dam fall, but he just couldn't. It all came flooding back. Seeing Douglas tell _her_ that she had spinach in her teeth; that her hair was uncombed; that her feet were caked in mud and could be seen by everyone because she was wearing flip-flops. Seeing Douglas begin to fall in love with _her_; not wooing her over but being nicer than he usually was; becoming a more optimistic person. Because of _her._

_Beryl._

Beryl had made Douglas _different;_ she had _changed _him. If it weren't for her… Donald shuddered to think of the **completely** evil path that Douglas could have gone down without her influence. If Beryl hadn't told Douglas that he wasn't evil; that he was just _misguided,_ Douglas would have fooled himself into becoming completely heartless. Completely evil. Completely indifferent to the sensitive feelings and emotions of the world.

_I have to thank Beryl,_ his immediate thoughts were. _Where would I be if it weren't for her?_

He began to think, _Douglas would know where she was._

_But didn't she leave? And that's why he became cold. She's gone. Dead? She couldn't be dead. Not after all she's done! And she's too young to die._

And then, it hit Donald like a garbage truck with an elephant riding shotgun.

_That's what Chase was doing._

* * *

The first date. Douglas almost laughed. It was wildly amusing whenever he looked back on it, with or without Beryl, when she was still living with him. They would collapse in giggles whenever they remembered the hilarious incidents and mishaps that came hurtling towards them, reminiscing the good times.

He opened the leather journal once more, trying to distract himself from worrying about the situation Chase could have possibly gotten himself in. Whenever he worried about Chase, he began to pace.

_I need to stop pacing,_ Douglas commanded to himself. _Reading a book prevents me from pacing. _He opened the book to the second entry, right before the first, and hungrily began devouring the words.

_Douglas—our first date would be a day that I always remembered._

_I bet you remember it __**slightly**__ different than the way __**I**__ remember it. But here: I'll tell you about it from my point of view, knowing that you'll always laugh and remember that fateful day. Maybe my writing is so good you'll feel like you were still there. Who knows? _

_4:45 P.M., May 5, 1992*._

_I was waiting for you to meet me at the front of the park stand where that ridiculous statue of General Willington stood—that was something that we both agreed on. I was fidgeting nervously and I was worried that you would just dump me by not even showing up because you had decided that a) you didn't really like me after all, or b) you weren't interested and decided not to waste your time on someone like me. I had my pink purse clutched in my hands and I was tapping my foot on the sidewalk so loud several picnickers stopped eating to glare at me. I was really starting to stink up a sweat, but luckily, I'd put on my deodorant, so hopefully, no harm was done._

_And then there you came, casually strolling like you had nothing better to do that day. And just what did you do when you saw me? You looked shocked and you said, "Beryl! What are you doing here?"_

_And do you know how I reacted? Oh, ho-ho, I'm absolutely __**sure**__ that you remembered that black eye I gave you! If I remember correctly, I punched you on the chest and then in the eye… and you fell down, wailing like a baby. Most people would have found that hideously unattractive. But I found it funny._

_And that's when I discovered you were joking. You'd staged it all just to be funny! I apologized to you so many times you told me if I apologized one more time, __**you'd**__ give __**me**__ a black eye. And then…_

_That's when a pigeon decided to poop on my head._

_I had screamed so loudly you'd covered your ears and then you had to take me to one of those dirty public bathrooms to clean the goop out of my eyes, hair, and ears. Although I had slapped you (hopefully lightheartedly) when you had laughed, it's funny now when I can look back on it._

_Finally, we were able to continue on the date._

_I had learned that sometimes a first date could be slightly awkward because the girlfriend and the boyfriend don't really know what to say to each other because they don't know each other very well. _

_I can honestly say it was the exact opposite with you. You chattered on, and the best part was, you never seemed to be creating a monologue. When I wanted to talk, you let me talk. And when I wanted to listen, you were able to talk about things that I was actually interested in. _

_The even funnier thing is, when we had dinner, the waiter accidentally spilled the steak and it landed __**on my lap!**__ You just couldn't help yourself. You burst into laughter while at the same time, helping me clean up with ten paper napkins. _

_But all in all, I will remember that first date for a very specific reason, above all others. Know why? It was because you didn't try to force a kiss and make it inconvenient. You took your time trying to romanticize with me, and a simple hug was all I got at the goodbye when you drove yourself home._

_And I will always remember that._

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**So!? What did you all think? I'm sorry if it didn't reach expectations, but I wasn't really in "The Writer's Zone" (More about that on my profile when I type it up) so it may sound a little forced. When I was typing it up it felt choppy. And it's relatively short, compared to the last chapter... So please review! If I go one hundred reviews... Let's just say I'd be really, really pleased, maybe even to the point of crying. Now go review! *grabs tissue box and waits.* **

**Footnote No. 1: This is the rule used in Robot Fight Club in the beginning scene before the theme song - where the lab rats use their opponent's strength against each other and flip them. Doesn't sound familiar? Look it up on Wikipedia.**

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**(I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.)**


	7. AN DO NOT REVIEW ON THIS!

**Hey, y'all! This is, sadly, not a chapter. I just wanted to let you all know that I will be/am gone from June 13 to July 19. I can remotely access this site through _other _people's phones (because apparently, even though I'm older than sixteen, I'm not allowed to have a phone yet) or go onto one of my relative's computer since there will be wi-fi where I'm visiting.  
**

**This means no updates on Clandestine Covers, Marcus: Broken Android, or new stories/one-shots, reviews on other stories (you'll have to fill me in on the new stories you guys have published in a PM!), or PMs for the moment. Checking my _personal _email I can most likely _receive_ emails but I can't _respond. _Following me?  
**

**I'm sorry to say this, but this is just the way things are. **

**Please do not review on this A/N because it will be deleted when I get back from my camp. (If you've got anything you'd like to say, put it in a PM. Oh, boy, my inbox is going to be _flooded_ when I get back... :-O) Then if you _do_ review on this, I delete it and post the _real_ chapter. If you try to review on the real chapter, it says (for members) that you've already reviewed on the chapter, which you have, when it was just an A/N. Sorry if that was confusing. It's hard to put it in "easy" mode, but I think you get it!**

**Normally, I would put this in an A/N at the beginning of a real chapter, but I'm afraid that I won't be able to finish a chapter in time to post it before I leave on each of my stories that's still in progress.**

**Anyway, good-bye for now to whoever is reading this! I will _try _(Key word: TRY, people!) post a new chapter within a week when I get back... I can't promise anything, but I will try to do that. Bye now! Vacation, here I come!  
**

**(P.S. If you'd like more detail on my summer schedule, please visit the "Summer Schedule" section of my profile.) Thank you for your time!  
**


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